Starfish_ A Novel - James Crowley [66]
The captain looked to Beatrice and Lionel’s grandfather. Everyone else’s eyes darted anxiously from the captain to Mr. Hawkins.
“That’s the deal, and the only way there ain’t gonna be further bloodshed.”
“Okay, Hawkins, deal,” the captain said. “You have today.”
“Soft, I tell ya!” Jenkins cried.
“And, Corporal,” the captain said to one of his soldiers, “place Sergeant Jenkins and Private Lumpkin under arrest.”
“Under arrest?” Jenkins sputtered.
“I warned you! Now, don’t worsen your situation!” the captain shouted, silencing Jenkins instantly. The captain turned his horse to face Hawkins. “Do we have an agreement?”
“We do,” Hawkins answered, his rifle still pointed at the soldiers. He looked over at Beatrice, who lay at Lumpkin’s feet. “I’m sorry, Beatrice…Lionel. You couldn’t come where me and the Junebug are going, anyhow.”
“What about me?” Corn Poe exclaimed.
Mr. Hawkins looked at the boy.
“It’s best for you to stay, Corn Poe. You stay with Lionel, there. He’ll take care of ya, won’t ya, Lionel?”
Lionel looked up at Mr. Hawkins on his big horse and then over to Junebug sitting silently next to him.
“You all gonna be all right,” Mr. Hawkins said, with a hint of question to it.
“We’re all right,” their grandfather answered, pulling a box of yellow pencils from his coat pocket. “We’ll be just fine.”
Grandpa tossed the box to Junebug, releasing the Hawkinses after all they had done for Lionel and Beatrice. Junebug caught the box, nodded, and the Hawkinses turned their horses, rifles still at the ready, and a moment later, they were gone.
Chapter Thirty-Four
A COLD, WET RAIN • BACK TO THE LODGE • THE CAPTAIN • BEATRICE
THE CAPTAIN ordered the soldiers to give them water and food and to attend to the crack in Beatrice’s ribs from Lumpkin’s rifle. They sat, soldiers and Blackfeet alike, mulling over the events that led them all to be huddled at this far edge of the Great wood.
Jenkins and Lumpkin were untied but under guard, and sat in the shadow of the rock as they ate, staring at Beatrice and occasionally at Lionel. The captain told Jenkins to avert his gaze, but he continued to stare at them throughout the day and on the ride that took them into the night.
They mounted up after eating and rode slowly back through the woods to which Lionel and Beatrice had become so accustomed. The captain let Lionel and Beatrice ride on Ulysses, but this ride was different from the previous ones.
Their grandfather rode most of the way back to the lodge with the captain. Riding side by side, they spoke, occasionally pointing out to each other various aspects of the nature of the landscape that surrounded them.
Lionel half expected that at any moment Beatrice would turn the horse and try to make another escape. But this never happened. Beatrice looked tired and rode for the rest of the day slumped forward, asleep against Lionel’s back.
It started to rain sometime in the afternoon, and fell in cold, wet drops until they were all thoroughly soaked. Lionel shivered uncontrollably, but Beatrice woke up and pulled him closer, letting the rain pour over her head and back as she covered his.
They arrived in the meadow after dark, and Lionel thought that the little lodge looked sad as they rode past the smokehouse. The captain ordered his men to bivouac in the yard that led past the lodge to the garden, and within the half hour, their tents were set and their cook fires dotted the small valley’s lawn.
The soldiers brought the children and their grandfather to the lodge that had once been their home, and although they weren’t tied, it was obvious that they were, once again, prisoners. Beatrice was half asleep, slumped against Lionel, and their grandfather had to carry her, ducking his head to get under the crooked door. Lionel watched as he cradled Beatrice in his arms and laid her on the buffalo robe in front of the crumbling fireplace.
Jenkins had wrecked the lodge. Their stores were overturned and what little furniture there was was broken. Lionel saw his reflection in a sliver of broken